The Rise of Harry Potter

Although the strike was sloppy, Harry was on the ground and didn't have any chance of avoiding it. He tucked his chin down, taking the hit on the back of his head and feeling it recoil through his neck and shoulders. Ralph jumped in, giving a mighty kick which let the air leave Harry's lungs in a mighty poof.

Lutain hissed something alarmed and frantic as he tried to wriggle free through the blows. Harry's ducked head wouldn't let the snake wiggle through.

"Master!" Lutain shrieked, whipping his tail angrily and panicked.

Ralph managed a kick which somehow knicked the lower half of Lutain's tail. Lutain cried in pain, curling up and shaking under the coat.

'Leave Lutain alone!' Harry thought vehemently, bubbling anger pooling over as he glared through his messy fringe at David, 'Leave us alone!'

David pulled back his leg to kick before he toppled and fell. His leg sunk through the snowbank, stopping just above his knee. The only strange factor, was that his other leg had found sturdy ground just an inch through the snow.

David had sunk into the ground.

David screamed in surprise and fear, staring at his leg dumbly for a few moments before hollering for Clover and screaming about witchcraft, which Harry found quite amusing.

Harry straightened, getting off the ground and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. His nose had started trickling a thin stream, not that anyone was looking at him. Even Ralph had stumbled back, skittering off for safety.

"What did I tell you," Harry sighed, still highly irritated.

Lutain moaned something quietly, whispering in agony and trembling against Harry's body.

Why was it that Lutain had to be hurt, he hadn't done a thing. It wasn't fair, it wasn't justified for an innocent to be hurt. David should be the one wounded, he had at least been the attacker.

Harry wanted David to hurt.

"When you poke the fire, you get burned." Harry hissed out, reaching out and snatching David's hand between his own. He heard the loud hissing crackle without actually feeling anything. The air was filled with an acrid stench of something cooking.

David screamed. Tears overflowed his glassy eyes as he flailed, trying to break free although he couldn't with one leg burrowed in the frozen ground.

Harry let go sharply, taking a step back. David's hand smoldered, the skin peeling and shriveling away from his hand like a timelapse video. It smoked and smelled of something rank, looking putrid dark red and swelling already.

"I'll get Madam Clover," Harry drawled, swallowing against the small sensation of guilt that was rising in his throat, "I'll tell her you were trying to play with firecrackers."

David said nothing, sniffling, staring at his hand in horror and excruciating pain.

Harry turned and walked quickly towards the house, already dreading the accusations and the future whispers that would spread about him.

He doubted David would ever bother him again.

David's hand scarred, a permanent reminder Harry thought. It was a mottled patchwork of dark red and pale pink that would never be smooth again. David hid the ghastly-looking scarring with an old ratty black glove and he was lucky it was his left hand and not the right. Harry had heard that the nerves had been damaged and that David had nearly no fine motor control left in the stiffened fingers and taut skin.

After that, the other children avoided him. The rooms around his were quickly vacated, until Harry was then surrounded by empty rooms. The orphanage staff couldn't actually prove anything, but it was likely a security precaution. He had been involved in both incidents, after all.

The other children avoided him like the plague whenever he went outside. They lapsed into silence when he walked past, often times retreating entirely into their rooms.

At dinner, nobody talked when he was in the vicinity.

He stopped having dinner at the same time as everyone else.

They didn't deserve his company anyways.

Christmas was a miserable holiday.

The other children laughed and played with the cheap toys they mysteriously were given, boasting and fighting for the best one.

Suzie picked up her teddy bear and, against the hushed and insistent advice given to her, she turned and pointedly looked at Harry. "Oh, looks like nobody likes you enough to give you a present!"

Harry made sure she woke up to burned cloth and ashes for button eyes.

Harry felt a wave of despair hit him the moment the snow began to melt.

....

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